


Save This One Life

by CaraAkame



Series: Where Life Has Led You [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 17:02:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8110399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaraAkame/pseuds/CaraAkame
Summary: Edward Elric helps out at the hospital every afternoon. This day is no exception.However, today he gets a patient with a gunshot wound, who would probably have died, if Ed and his brother, Al, weren't working at that hospital.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, this is unbeta'd, so feel free to point out any and all mistakes!
> 
> This is an AU where Ed never joined the military, but instead he and Al work a hospital. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s always the same. Every time. Ed helps out at the hospital every afternoon and occasionally, when there has been a big accident, he’s there for days at a time. Usually, he stands in the driveway, where all the worst off patients are brought in. He assesses the damage and either watches the patients being wheeled to the next possible OR, or – in the really bad cases – tries to somehow give them more time.

It has happened more times than he likes to remember that somebody was so far gone that nothing he could do would help them survive. And he always knows. He can tell when somebody’s brain has long gone and their heart is all that’s left. He will still save the body, if he can, so at least somebody else can survive in their place.

Sometimes the brain is still functional, but the heart will give out long before they can be treated. Sometimes the heart has already stopped beating, but some consciousness remains. Then all he can do is ease the passing.

His brother is never there with him. He’s the one Ed refers the worst cases to. His little brother, Alphonse, who actually has a medical degree. Edward knows Al is the most competent doctor in this hospital. They are all competent, but his brother has Alchehestry, like Ed does. And Alphonse is a genius.

However, there are times when his own actions save people. Those are the days he lives for. When he knows that the damage would have been too much to allow someone to survive, had he not stopped the bleeding, or taken some of the pain to keep people from going into shock.

Today was a bad day, so far. Today, he has seen five corpses and the day isn’t nowhere near over. He has seen twenty people who will probably make it. And sixteen that probably won’t. Maybe Alphonse can save them. The balance of 21 dead – he likes to assume the ‘unlikely’ survivors count as dead, so he won’t have to break his heart twice – and 20 living, is a bad one. Ed’s not sure which day it is, probably Friday. He can usually tell what day it is by the type of injuries he sees. On Fridays and Saturdays, it’s usually accidents involving a vehicle. Some idiot getting behind a wheel drunk and hitting either a tree or other people.

He’s not sure if it makes him a bad person, but he rarely pities the drivers. They knew full well the risk of driving inebriated. But he can’t stand when their stupidity kills somebody else.

He had enough cases like this today. And one in particular which still aggravates him to no end. The driver made it out alright, a lot of bruising and some broken bones, but nothing lethal. Ed didn’t even see the guy. But he hit a group of children crossing the street, and _those_ he got. That’s how he knows. The drivers of the ambulance told him what happened, they always do. They know telling him will make his job a lot easier.

Ed has already decided that once his shift is over, he is going to go see that driver and tell him exactly how many children he killed, how many he maimed. He hopes the guy will carry that guilt with him for the rest of his life. He hopes this bastard will have to hear the cries of the families he tore apart.

All in all, a terrible day. And if experience is anything to go by, it will stay terrible.

 

Ed is still fuming about the idiocy of mankind when the ambulance arrives.

“Ed, we have a gunshot victim. Around 30, male.”, one of the drivers – _Callum_ , he thinks – tells him. One look tells him a lot. “The bullet must still be inside, judging by the blood flow. It’s primarily from the region of his sternum, so there can’t be an exit wound. This looks close range, so I don’t have high hopes. Don’t move him.”, Ed informs them and gets to work. First, assess the damage. The bullet is definitely in there, he can feel the foreign object somewhere around the ninth and tenth thoracic vertebrae. It doesn’t seem to have penetrated his spine – lucky, if this guy survives, he will be able to walk – or his heart. It has definitely punctured his left lung. In the end, the shooter can’t have been very skilled because at the range this was shot, hitting the heart or spine is very easy. Or it was a _very_ skilled gunman, who didn’t want to kill this man outright. Probably the first, though because if Ed wouldn’t be here, this man would probably bleed to death internally, or the bullet would dislodge and put pressure on the heart from the outside, possibly cutting off the blood flow. It’s a miracle it hadn’t done that during the ride back.

He knew he couldn’t remove the bullet here; this man would bleed to death within seconds. Currently the bullet is like a cork, sealing the wound somewhat. So Ed will do the only thing he can: Stop the bleeding as much as possible and take care to not move the bullet or incase it in flesh.

He claps – building the matrix – and carefully lays one finger of each hand on the man’s chest. He can feel the energy flowing through the patient’s body, can feel the pain he is in. This is a very strong man. He should be in shock by now, but he’s not. Like he’s holding on to the pain to give himself more time. _There must be somebody waiting for him to come home_ , Ed thinks.

When he’s done all he can – give the man half an hour more and take some of his pain – he sends him along with instructions to give him to Alphonse with the message ‘ _Take care of the bullet_ ’.

 ----- 

His shift is over. When Ed says shift, he means voluntary work he told the hospital he would be doing for a certain amount of time. He gave them a time where he would be waiting at the drop off and a time he would be wandering around the hospital – after his “shift” – seeing if he can ease someone’s pain. In that time, they could still page him in case something really bad came in. They even pay him. He told them not to, since he was here to help his brother and save some lives instead of sitting at home doing nothing. They didn’t listen. They _did_ tell him to get his MD so he could officially be a doctor here, but he thought there was no rush. He can do what he does now without the degree.

He’s wandering around the hospital now, looking for the man who was shot in the early evening. He’s on his list of 50/50 chance of survival, which is usually not very long. Normally, he knows the chances to be on one side of the percentage spectrum. There are too many variables this time. Did the bullet dislodge on the way to the OR? Did the man give in to shock? Did he bleed too much once the bullet was taken out? Did he have some sort of blood disease or take blood thinners for some reason? Is he allergic to any of the anesthesia or the antibiotics against the infection? If the answer to all of those question is _no_ , then this man had a very high chance of making it. If the answer was yes to any of them, the chances were very, very slim.

He finds the right room – Room 205 – and looks in. The door says Maes Hughes – good, they identified him – and inside there are three people. A woman with a small child and a man. The woman and child must be his wife and daughter, from the looks of it. They are both asleep, with a blanket draped over them.

The man looks to be about the same age, and is in uniform. The ranking says Colonel. Ed recognizes this man. This is Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist. This is the man who came to his home about ten years ago, telling him to join the military. He’s awake, holding the other man’s hand and staring into his face, as if hoping that would wake him up faster. He can’t tell them that it might take a while. That he might never wake up, if his brain got damaged in some way. Mustang doesn’t look towards the door, doesn’t even flinch when it opens, so Ed thinks he probably didn’t even notice.

Not wanting to intrude on anyone, he looks for the drunk driver who needs to be told just how much damage he had done.

 -----

“Brother, we have been invited to dinner at the Hughes’ on Sunday.”, Alphonse tells his brother one day over breakfast. Ed nearly spits out his bacon in surprise.

“Both of us? Why?”, Ed replies, remembering the man who is the Flame Colonel’s best friend.

“Because, brother, you saved his life at least as much as I did. I told him what you did for him when he woke up. He got released yesterday and told me to come over and bring you with me to have dinner with them.”, Al says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Then, when Edward doesn’t say anything, he says: “Him and his family are grateful and want to cook us dinner in thanks. By the way, you’re always so bad with names, how come you remember this one?”

“Remember Mustang? That State Alchemist? He’s his best friend, I think. He was in the hospital room when I went to check up on him. I didn’t talk to him though.”, he replies.

“Maybe you’ll get to see the Flame Alchemist again someday. And then you can drench him from head to foot for suggesting a military life for an eleven-year-old.”, Al says with a laugh, to which Ed replies: “I doubt it.”


End file.
